


A Cemetary Of Truths

by Nevcolleil



Series: Buried Things [2]
Category: MacGyver (TV 2016)
Genre: Accidental Voyeurism, Assumed Unrequited Love, F/M, Longing, M/M, Voyeurism, pre-Angus MacGyver/Jack Dalton (MacGyver TV 2016)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-08
Updated: 2018-06-08
Packaged: 2019-05-19 19:35:44
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,555
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14879895
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nevcolleil/pseuds/Nevcolleil
Summary: Those whisper-soft latches on the van are agoodthing when you’re deploying during a recon mission.Not so much when you’re returning to said van and a little squeak, a distinct click, would at least do the dirty job for you of notifying your companions that they have an audience to their very enthusiastic bout of wall-sex...





	A Cemetary Of Truths

It’s not like Jack makes a habit out of witnessing his friends having sex.

At least. He never meant to make a habit out of this...

He never meant it to happen even _once_.

It wasn’t Jack’s fault that Mac and Nikki couldn’t keep their hands off of each other when they first got together. Working around them was like working in a minefield. Twice, they failed to turn their short distance comms all the way off at the end of a mission, while Jack was headed back to them or ahead to HQ while they fooled around with each other - in the first month of their relationship _alone_.

But it had taken Mac _so_ damned long to work up the nerve to make a move on Nikki... Jack’s still not convinced that Nikki hadn’t been the one to make the move herself. And Mac was so shy about it all-

Jack hadn’t had the heart to say anything.

After that first time, when Jack was just too shocked (that was a moan he’d just listened to - Mac’s moan. He and Jack have been through just about everything together; there’s not much Jack doesn’t know about the guy. But he hadn’t known what Mac sounds like when someone’s touched his cock and he moans...) to react right away, Jack just popped his earpiece out whenever it seemed that his partners had forgotten he still had it in.

(Mac never forgot. He was _sure_ that Nikki had turned them off. He’s never considered otherwise.)

And then there was the time in the van.

 _Shit_.

If only Jack could forget that time in the van...

He might not be frozen now, outside of Mac’s hotel room.

They’d just wrapped up one bitch of a mission, and Nikki and Mac probably weren’t expecting Jack to meet back up with them for another hour. 

They’d gotten separated, and Jack was all the way on the other side of the city... There was no rush - exfil wasn’t til nearly daybreak, with no immediate threat hanging over their heads, now that they’d turned Rochener in to the French authorities.

But it had been one _bitch_ of a mission. Jack changed his mind just after joking about seeing some Parisian nightlife and turning off his comm. He hauled ass back to the van instead.

It hadn’t occurred to him that Nikki and Mac might be up to more than just fooling around, with the thought in their heads that Jack wouldn’t be coming around to interrupt them for a good while. It didn’t occur to him - until he was standing at the back of the van, watching the muscles in Mac’s naked back - his bare ass - flex as he fucked Nikki up against the bank of closed monitors against one side of the converted cargo van’s interior.

Those whisper-soft latches on the van are a _good_ thing when you’re deploying during a recon mission.

Not so much when you’re returning to said van and a little squeak, a distinct click, would at least do the dirty job for you of notifying your companions that they have an audience to their very enthusiastic bout of wall-sex...

Okay. Maybe they’re a good thing either way. It’s not like it would be better if they _knew_ that Jack had caught them sexing each other. If _Mac_ knew that Jack’s seen him with a girl’s legs wrapped around his waist, working some of the most satisfied and needy sounds Jack’s ever heard come out of a woman out of Nikki in little stops and starts - broken up, Jack gathered, by kisses.

(And Jack knows what he’s talking about there. There’s no use in his playing modest in his own thoughts. Jack’s _never_ heard a real, live woman - right there in front of him - sound anything but satisfied and/or needy in the middle of sex.)

Jack should have walked away as quick as he’d walked up.

He’ll admit that.

He can’t excuse the fact that he just stood there and kept watching. Nikki’s hands clenched, white-knuckled, on Mac’s shoulder... (clenching tighter, even, from time to time, like Mac’s gotten the angle just right-) Mac’s arms looped under Nikki’s thighs, hardly even seeming to strain...

(It’s weird - right? - that Jack felt weirdly proud for his friend... seeing the easy strength Mac displayed. Before they were friends, Jack teased Mac a bunch about being “scrawny” - 'cause it always got under Mac’s skin. But Mac’s nothing but long, lean muscle. Jack knew that right from the start - _felt_ it as they rolled around in the dirt, during their first and last physical fight.)

Jack shouldn’t have stood there and listened to the soft, shaky sounds Mac makes while he’s having sex. The way he quietly pants, more and more the closer he seems to get to climax-

He should have left well before he heard Nikki suddenly exclaim, “ _God_ , Mac-” and the wordless cry Mac answered her with, doubling the speed of his movements-

He didn’t, alright?

Jack left then. He left, and he can’t tell what’s tormented him worse, in the year since. That he ever heard any of it - that he saw what he did.

Or that he didn’t just stay to see what happened once Mac really started to lose it... 

How his hips might have stuttered as he finally came- If Mac started to lose some of that steady strength once his knees went weak - slumping into Nikki and down the wall as he orgasmed.

Or if he rode that wave out without so much as a shudder.

What does Mac sound like when he comes?

That’s not a question that Jack ever, _ever_ should have asked himself. Not of an unknowing friend. Not of a _kid_ like Mac... Not of anyone he respects as much as he does his partner, when he doesn’t _have_ to question what Mac would think about Jack thinking about Mac’s sex noises.

But here they are. And Jack’s way too old not to have done plenty of worse things - in his head and in real life (on _orders_ , in fact, at least a time or two) - before. 

Jack knows how to shove shit like that down deep. To not let it out except when - and where - it can’t hurt anybody, can’t break anything or make anything awkward.

(Like late nights when Jack doesn’t have any company to distract him.)

Except.

Yeah.

If Jack hadn’t let all of that into his head in the first place, maybe he _could_ forget about that time in the van.

And now that he’s standing outside of Mac’s hotel room door (Jack hadn’t stopped to think that maybe Mac might have company. That maybe Mac might be poking at old wounds at the same time that Jack’s been out on the balcony poking at his own. He just hurt, walking away from Sarah, and all he could think to do about it was see if Mac was still up.) Jack feels that question rise up out of its box all of its own volition. And it sticks Jack right where he stands... Won’t let him go.

He can hear the same, almost startled-sounding moans that he heard Nikki made before - only somewhat muffled now by the door to Mac’s in-suite room, with Jack standing right in front of it, knowing what he’s hearing.

He can hear Mac groan, deep and throaty.

Maybe ‘cause they’re doing it in a bed this time? (Jack can hear the mattress squeak.) Mac isn’t having to strain to hold himself and Nikki up while he fucks her. He has the breath in his lungs to groan like that, as he hadn’t before...

“Holy fuck...” Jack whispers out loud. 

He has no more excuses now than he had back then. _Less_ , maybe. Because this time he knows he’s standing there with a purpose. He knows he’s listening _for_ something, not just listening, which is bad enough. He’s already heard way more than any person has a right to. Seen more than he was ever meant to. If Mac knew... what would he think of Jack? What would he do?

How would he _feel_?

That question is maybe the one thing in the world strong enough to override whatever sad fixation Jack’s formed on a thing that won’t ever happen the way his subconscious is wanting, eating up sights and sounds like the ones he’s eating up now - on a person Jack’s more than grateful to have a friendship with, nevermind his helpless wanting of something more.

Strong enough to drown out that other question in Jack’s mind.

But, ironically, it comes too late to make a difference.

Because, hands and forehead pressed to the indifferent wood of Mac’s door, Jack prepares to push away and to push himself back to his own room-

And at that moment he hears Mac cry out. A quick, sharp, shaken sound, that grinds out into another soft groan - over the answering sound of Nikki’s similar cry - and then the sound of Mac’s bed squeaking fades into nothing.

Jack has the answer to one of his questions.

He takes himself back to his own room, to what tepid reprieve he can get from his own touch, and shoves his inner box closed over the despair that comes with guessing the answering to his other one.


End file.
